


Second best all his life

by memoriesoflastwords



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Caretaking, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Grishaverse, Morozova's collar, Ravka, amplifier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26769505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memoriesoflastwords/pseuds/memoriesoflastwords
Summary: Day 2 of fanwriter.it's Writober is "Domestic"!After "Shadow & Bone"'s happenings, Mal is worried about Alina's wellbeing as she stops using her power.
Relationships: Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov
Kudos: 8
Collections: Writober di Fanwriter.it, Writober2020 di Fanwriter.it





	Second best all his life

He could see her getting weaker by the day.

Ever since they’d left Ravka, her skin had started getting paler, the bags under her eyes of a shade nearer to a sick purple, the white stag’s antlers around her neck always more of a choking collar than an amplifier to her powers.

He had told her, once or twice, to find a place, hidden, safe, where she could use her powers, make some light. He had told her no one would have found it weird, had light appeared in their room, as they would have taken it for a candle’s fire. But Alina was scared, and deep down, so was he. The Darkling was the one thing he had no idea how to protect her from.

He had tried, at night, as she slept, to take the antlers off her neck, but as not to wake her up he’d always stopped at the first sign of annoyance by her side. He knew she would be angry at him, had he managed to take the amplifier off for real, as it was a source of immense power, but he’d rather have her angry and hateful than dead or enslaved. It was true, that amplifier gave her power, but it also made her a puppet in the Darkling’s knowing hands. No matter how strong Alina could be with that amplifier, the Darkling – an amplifier himself – would always be stronger than her.

“Here, let me get this.”

Alina looked up as Mal exited the room they shared, hands free, and took the bags from her own hands. It had been a long walk to the market, and she was out of breath indeed, but she was not sure she liked the way Mal was getting more and more worried about her health. He already had to work harder than she could to find the money they needed for the room, food and safe passage; he didn’t need anything else to worry about. Certainly not her wellbeing. After all, she knew she wouldn’t die. She had spent years without practicing her powers, a few more months wouldn’t be lethal. And she could do without the amazing sensation that came with the light.

“Don’t.” she spoke, holding one of the bags tighter. “You’re making me feel useless.”

“You are not.” Mal frowned, letting go at least of that one bag. “Alina, you’re not. Me wanting to be of help doesn’t make you useless at all.”

She let a sigh out, following Mal inside the little room, sitting on the bed to take off the scarf she wore to hide Morozova’s collar from the view. Hers before anyone else’s. “That’s what it feels like, though.”

Mal sat by her side only after putting the bags of food on the little table by the window. He caressed Alina’s shoulders, slowly, as if in fear of breaking her down like a precious vase. He perfectly knew that, had she been able to guess what he was thinking, she would once more have been angry at him, but he couldn’t help it. He had been looking over her his entire life, some way or another. He had been tracking and finding his way back to her ever since they had been separated, a tracker like many and someone with opposite and equal powers to the Darkling.

“Listen.” he spoke quietly, carefully, for he knew the situation they were living was bigger than him and his worries. “I know you are way stronger than me, and not simply because you are Grisha. Your strength has nothing to do with your little tricks.” as she looked at him, confused as to whether to take the “tricks” as an offence or not, he went on. “But you are not well, that collar and you not using your powers are a dangerous combination. I understand why you don’t want to use your powers, and I want you to lean onto me when you need it. Because I won’t judge you, Alina. All you’ll ever have from me is support, whatever happens and whatever you decide to do.”

“Dangerous words.” Alina looked up at Mal. “If I told you not to help me, anymore, would you? Because that’s what comes off your phrasing, but knowing you, you can barely make a day pass without wanting to play hero.”

“I’m not playing hero.” he shook his head. “If anything, I’m playing lovebird. And since I don’t like discussing with you, we have different points of view on the matter and no intention on finding a middle ground, do you have any idea what’s going to happen?”

“No clue.” she stood up, playing with her gown as to straighten the wrinkles off. “You’re going to leave me here alone until the Darkling finds me, just so you can prove a point?”

“Quite an inspiring scenario, now that you make me think about it, but no, I’m not.” Alina followed Mal’s movements as he moved to the table and took off the bag some dry beef and potatoes. “I’m going to cook you a nice, warm meal.”

“Mal!”

“I know, I know: I’m not that much of a cook.” Mal looked at Alina over his shoulder. The last weeks, they had mostly been eating basic and easy to cook recipes, or meals they could find for little money that was already cooked and only needed some heat to be edible. And during his tracking missions, Mal had often found himself cooking, that was true, but only meat, with vegetables not even being on sight, and that kind of eating was all but nourishing. Satisfying, maybe, but not nourishing. And with the prices of meat on the market, they couldn’t afford eating for pleasure. “But I won’t poison you, I promise.”

“I can help.” she insisted, but Mal shook his head.

“Just let me do something nice. Maybe rest a bit.” he spoke against her hair, kissing her head before getting to what was theoretically the stove, but was more likely the lucky leftover of some inn.

Alina sighed, and stayed around as Mal prepared the ingredients. He salted and peppered the beef and started cutting small squares off the potatoes and hash browns Alina had managed to get the same day. She could get used to that, she told herself. The calmness of it all, the sound of the knife slowly cutting through the vegetables and hitting against the wooden table, the small wrinkle of focus on Mal’s forehead.

“Can you light the fire for me?” the moment he asked, Alina shuddered. Mal moved his eyes from the plate to her, confused by her reaction. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, before moving her fingers to the little sachet by her hips, where she had a few matches. “I got distracted.” she said and lightened the match.

The little flame was quick in coming to life, but despite the feeling of warmth being similar, she was no Inferni. Fire was not her element nor her friend. That warmth was a stranger with a welcoming smile, but a stranger all the same.

Mal’s fingers, covered in little callouses, appeared in her vision. “Give me that.”

She wished she could use her light, summon it from the inside, feel its warmth flood every inch of her body once more. She wished she could blow out the match’s fire and summon so much light the whole room would be little different than a furnace. But it was thoughts like those that would make her weak in front of the Darkling. She had to control the light. If controlling meant not using it for weeks, months, years, that was a sacrifice worth making.

Mal seemed to understand what was going on in her mind and blew against the match before the flame could caress Alina’s fingers. “One time won’t cause any kind of problem, I’m sure. If you want to summon…”

“It won’t be of any help with fire.” Alina shook her head, took another match from the little box. “I was being irrational.”

“Alina, summon it. Or your want for the light will grow stronger and harder to control.” he poked around the little kitchen until he found a piece of paper and some glass left from a mirror that had fallen into pieces their second or third day in the room. He held the mirror between his middle and index fingers, placed the paper under the skillet.

Alina swallowed, then gave a little nod. And as she lightened up as the most awaited of sunrises, Mal knew he would gladly be second best to her summoning for all his life, as long as it meant being able to see her like that, bathing in light.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not the biggest Malina shipper, but I must admit he took care of our beloved Saint girl, so here some domestic fluff with the slightest angst is!
> 
> If you'd like to support my ongoing project, consider donating at ko-fi.com/warsgospel, that would be a bliss!


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